by Mark Stewart
EVEN THOUGH sunrise was still a few hours away, news of Haleton's capture spread like a firestorm. While he remained chained, locked and guarded a crowd squashed into every crevasse of the small courthouse to watch the anticipated hanging. Each person bore their stares into Haleton.
At 7:00 in the morning a man wearing a confident expression, and black clothes, entered the room and marched to the front. He sat at a table directly in front of Haleton. The ruckus in the room was deafening.
The Judge seated at the table brought the gavel down hard. In seconds, the loud thud turned the noisy courtroom deadly quiet. "Haleton, after hearing the evidence against you, I sentence you to hang. Knowing of the rumor, you can't be killed; I've decided your preposterous words stating you are a vampire are not true. In the event I'm wrong, it won't change my decision. You will be hung by the neck until you are dead, then your head will be severed from your shoulders."
Two men dragged Haleton into the next room, and a noose was placed over his head. His wrists were bound tight, and his ankles tethered together. The coarse rope scratched his skin. In a heartbeat, the scratches vanished.
In less than three minutes every seat in the viewing area had a person sitting on it. The women in the room wore the same excited expression, while the men folded their arms across their chests, looking displeased at the whole affair.
"Silence in the room," shouted the Judge. "The execution will now take place." He faced Haleton. Using an ice-cold voice, he rasped. "Is there any last words you wish to say?"
"I'd like to address each person in this room," replied Haleton.
"Be warned, everyone here is waiting to view the outcome of the hanging."
"I'd like to announce to all who have come to witness my execution; I pursue the length of road known as Innocent Street. I am not guilty of any wrongdoing. I admit I had been following the old man. Thanks to the vampire blood flowing through my veins I sensed he might be walking into trouble. I only wanted to help him to arrive home safe."
"Enough idle talk, get on with the hanging," spat a big man sitting in the front row. There ain't no such thing as a vampire."
"What about the young man who died not far from where the old man breathed his last?" sobbed a woman at the rear of the room. "He told me he was standing outside the door of the bakery minding his own business when he heard a noise coming from inside. He went in to investigate. The robber attacked him from behind. My son died in my arms."
"Madam, did he give you a description of the murderer before he closed his eyes for the last time?" asked Haleton.
"He said you were the attacker."
"Your testimony is false," insisted Haleton. "Your son couldn't have described me. If I murdered him, I wouldn't be here."
"Enough delay," chorused several men from the center of the crowd. "Hang him now."
A stocky man standing at the side of the room picked up what looked like a black bag. Looking directly at the Judge he opened it using rock steady hands. The moment he received a sharp nod he walked over to Haleton. He was about to slip the bag over the head of the guilty when Haleton spoke.
"Can I have one more minute? Just thirty seconds perhaps?"
"What will a minute delay make? What is it you want?" growled the Judge.
"I'd like to feel the heat of the sun on my face one last time."
"I'm going to deny your odd request," growled the Judge.
"Complete this execution, my breakfast is ready," jeered the man holding the black bag.
Haleton turned his head to look at the Judge. "Please, Sir, a condemned criminal to a gentleman. Surely it's not too much to ask to feel the sun on my face one last time?"
The man puffed out his cheeks. Gazing about the small room at the sea of faces, he rubbed the stubble on his chin.
"Very well, I'll grant your last request. Before the curtain is opened someone must check to make certain Haleton's hands were still tied behind his back."
The man holding the black bag stepped up to make the check. "He's bound good and tight," he reported.
The Judge glared at a woman standing in front of a black curtain. "Please, step to the right, dragging the material open. After you have counted to thirty close the curtain so we can complete the execution."
"This farce has gone on long enough," yelled a man sitting in the back row. "The prisoner is stalling."
The Judge addressed the room by banging the gavel several times on the desk top. "Quiet each one of you. A condemned man has a right for one last request. We are not animals. A few more seconds will make no difference to the outcome."
"What of the rumor he can disappear into another time?" spat a young woman in the front row.
"Any rumor is here-say." The Judge re-focused on the woman clutching the black curtain. "Please, dear lady, if you'd open the curtain and count to thirty, thank you."
The woman opened the curtain. A black cloud had drifted in front of the sun making Haleton's face to remain in the shadow.
"So much for the rumor," muttered the Judge. "We'll now finalize the execution. Close the curtain."
"Please!" Haleton begged. "A few more seconds will see the sunshine. It's the least you can do."
A midnight hush fell in the room waiting for the Judge to give the final word.
Haleton switched his stare from the window to the Judge every few seconds. The sky started to lighten. He knew the sun's lifesaving rays would be on his face in seconds. His eyes were bulging when he saw the Judge raise his hand to signal for the curtain to be closed. Haleton strained against the ropes tethering his wrists. The bones in his forearms were at breaking point.
"Sun, come on out," he grumbled.
Groaning from the exertion of leaning to his left, the ropes creaking under the violent force, Haleton looked at the heavens.
"If there is a God watching me struggle, make the sunshine fall on my face. Do it now."
The Judge felt a bead of sweat form on his temple. He swiped it away before it could tumble down the side of his face. The many rows of people were starting to fidget. Somewhere amongst the sea of faces, a man coughed. A baby started to cry. The Judge signaled for the woman to close the curtain by way of a flippant hand gesture.
"No," Haleton yelled. "Wait, I beg you for mercy."
The curtain started to close.
Sunlight beamed through the window. Haleton's face shone like a beacon lapping up the warmth. He closed his eyes, yelling. "I'm a shadow by day and a hunter by night."
Not waiting for the black bag the executioner pulled the long wooden handle next to the trap door. The mechanism triggered the flap in the floor Haleton stood on. The wooden square opened downwards. Everyone in the room heard a thud. Haleton laughed. His shadow slipped through the noose. Each person watched in disbelief the shadow climbing the wall. Ten rows of citizens heard a laugh and saw the shadow move between the five horizontal bars covering the window before vanishing.
Haleton left the upheaval back at the courthouse in his wake, deciding the next town might be easier to walk around unnoticed.
By 8:00 o'clock in the evening Haleton arrived at an outdoor party. Several people, he smiled at when he started to mingle amongst the few hundred guests helped him to feel welcome. His top hat and tails made him look right at home at the masquerade ball.
'Nightfall on the evening of Halloween in 1849AD looks interesting,' thought Haleton glancing at the full moon rising over the treetops. 'It's a shame I have to leave so soon. What I'd give to hold a young lady in my arms and dance all night.'
Haleton left the party and walked along a narrow dirt road. Time was fast running out. He had only two hours in which to find the next guilty person. He needed every second to make sure evil filled the victim's, heart. He couldn't afford another mistake. He shuddered at the thought of having to start again for the third time. Two more victims and he'd be finally free of the vampire curse.
A mid to late teen boy walked past the doorway where Haleton stood, waiting. He looked to be
carrying something under his long coat. Thick English fog started to roll in from the sea. The vile smell of the remnant of fish guts in the many large fishing nets hanging up to dry filled Haleton's nostrils.
The young man checked the area before slipping into the doorway opposite Haleton. For over a minute the lad struggled to spring the lock. Opening the door, he stepped inside the small general store, closing the door in his wake.
Haleton walked across the street. He looked through the window and watched the lad raiding the money draw. Crates of food, fishing gear, and material were set out ready for buyers when they shopped the next day. The young man held a brown leather bag open and was scooping up handful after handful of English pounds. He looked pleased with hitting the jackpot.
Inside three minutes the young robber ventured outside, closed the door, lifting his collar against the cold, moist fog. He glanced up the road before walking towards the sea.
Haleton followed the robber through the back streets of England. He could hear the muffled yells from the women who were dancing in the arms of drunken males at the masquerade party. The robber kept to the shadows, never once looking over his shoulder. Haleton felt sure he'd eventually end up at the local ladies for gentlemen whorehouse.
The young man entered a lane. He squatted behind a stack of sea rotted wooden crates to count the loot.
"What do you think you're doing?"
The lad looked up, standing slowly. "It's all mine. If you act nice and leave the lane, you won't be hurt."
"At a guess, you have never heard of the rumors relating to William Haleton." He stooped, pulling his knife from his long boot.
CHAPTER SIX
Melbourne Australia: 2010AD.
